


Hearts and Hemimorphite

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Shop, Bucky is such a rock nerd, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 19:03:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4757492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Jesus christ.”</p><p>Bucky looked over to the person who had just spoken on his left and his heart threatened to leap out of his chest. Sitting one seat over from him was the single most beautiful human being he had ever seen. He was small and thin, his blond hair swept over his head and looking unbelievably soft. His eyes were scrunched shut and he was pressing a palm to his head, face pained.</p><p>Bucky Barnes works in a rock shop and knows way too much about minerals. After a disastrous morning at work he ends up in the ER and in a moment of weakness offers a job to a beautiful concussed stranger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I worked at a rock shop over the summer and was shocked to discover that literally no rock shop AUs exist in any fandom ever. I googled it and everything. So I'm writing one because I really want it to catch on, the possibilities are just endless. This fic is shamelessly based on my own experience, like basically Steve is me during the first month or so of the job and Bucky is me after I became old and jaded and spent $182 on my new rock collection. Also, cartoons are coming, my friend will be drawing for this fic but I wanted to go ahead and start posting even though she hasn't had the time to catch up with me yet. You can find me on tumblr as hearteyesmonroe, please come say hi!

“FUCK!”

“Bucky, you idiot, what did you do this time?”

Bucky Barnes was hopping up and down on one foot by the specimens shelf of a small, rundown rock shop, his boss Natasha gazing at him as if amazed by his stupidity.

“I dropped the fucking 150 dollar piece of fluorite on my foot.”

“Oh my god, James Buchanan, if you broke it I swear to god you’re paying for it.”

“Thank you for your concern, Natasha, but the fluorite is fine. My foot, on the other hand….” He was having an immense amount of difficulty putting any weight on it; any attempt sent a throb of pain shooting through his entire foot. “Oh god, it’s swelling, I think I broke something.”

“You’re so dramatic, Bucky.”

“No, seriously, I think I should go to the ER or something.”

“Do you need me to drive you? I can open late if I have to.” They were opening together and hadn’t unlocked the front doors yet, meaning that no customers had been around to hear Bucky’s outburst.

“No, it landed on my left foot, I can still work the pedals. You open without me, sorry for the inconvenience.” He hopped out of the store and out to his car, wincing as he climbed in. He tried for a few moments to wedge his left foot into a comfortable position before giving up and just starting the car. He realized about a minute into the drive that he probably should have taken Natasha up on her offer because, though his right foot was working fine, the pain was driving him half insane. It was only a ten minute drive to the ER, though, so he decided to just tough it out rather than turn back.

Or it was meant to be a ten minute drive, anyway.

“Fucking seriously?”

The car behind him honked. “No, fuck you!” he shouted, not that the driver could hear him. “Does it look like I can go anywhere right now?”

The line of backed up traffic ahead of him was mind boggling and, paired with the searing pain in his foot, made Bucky feel ready to murder. He groaned, laying his head on his steering wheel for a few moments to collect himself. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted more to break something or just cry but the knot in his stomach was growing by the minute and the honking behind him _really_ wasn’t helping.

Another honk.

Bucky sat up straight, huffing out a long sigh. What did he do to deserve this? This was quite possibly the worst day of his entire life. If he’d known this was how it was going to go he wouldn’t have even bothered getting up that morning.

It was thirty minutes before the cars in front of him began to inch forward. _Finally._ Feeling a bit less like the universe was conspiring against him, he followed the line of cars and managed to make it the rest of the way to the hospital without crashing, despite the intense pain radiating from his foot.

When he got in, it was packed, and the brief relief he had felt at arriving dissipated as he realized it would be a long wait. He checked in and, after it was determined that his condition wasn’t urgent, he went into the waiting area and settled into a chair, knowing he’d be there a while. He chewed on the inside of his cheek to distract himself from the pain, considering picking up a magazine before changing his mind when he saw how pitiful the selection was.

“Jesus christ.”

Bucky looked over to the person who had just spoken on his left and his heart threatened to leap out of his chest. Sitting one seat over from him was the single most beautiful human being he had ever seen. He was small and thin, his blond hair swept over his head and looking unbelievably soft. His eyes were scrunched shut and he was pressing a palm to his head, face pained.

“You okay?” Bucky called out to him, voice hushed.

The guy’s head snapped up and then he winced at the sudden movement. “Fine, just….concussion….” he managed to say.

“Shit, what happened?”

“Car crash. Why do you think the wait is so long today?”

“Wait, what do you mean?”

“Three way crash. I was in the back seat of a taxi. A nearby car spun into us and another vehicle. Everyone involved was rushed here in an ambulance, I was the only one okay enough to wait out here.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. I’m surprised you didn’t know. You drove here, right?”

“Yeah, I–Oh, is that why traffic was bad?”

The guy laughed and it was quite possibly the most beautiful sound Bucky had ever heard. “Yeah, it was,” he answered, lips turned up at the corners, like he was amused despite himself.

“God, I’m sorry,” Bucky murmured.

“So what happened to you?”

“Oh wow, this is going to sound really stupid after what you just told me.”

“Tell me anyway, I swear I won’t laugh.”

“I dropped a rock on my foot.”

Steve snorted. “Sorry, sorry, I promised, I know. Wait, how big of a rock?”

“I don’t know how heavy it was but it was 150 dollars. So pretty big.”

“What?”

“I work in a rock shop.”

“Ohhh so this is an occupational hazard sort of deal for you.”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

“I’m Steve, by the way.”

Steve. It was an ordinary name but it was suddenly the nicest name Bucky had ever heard. It took him a moment to collect himself and realize he should respond.

“Oh. Yeah. Hey. Nice to meet you. I’m Bucky.”

Steve got this infuriating little smirk at hearing Bucky’s halting reply, and it made Bucky want to cover it with his own mouth and….Oh god, what was he thinking, he needed to not think things like that in the middle of an emergency room at 9:45 AM.

“Nice to meet you, Bucky.”

Bucky was glad he was already seated because the sound of his own name falling from Steve’s lips made his legs feel like pudding. He decided to deflect attention from himself to give himself time to recover.

“So what do you do, Steve?”

“Not much at the moment. Which kind of sucks because the medical bill from this is going to be insane and, you know, I have no money.”

“Oh. God, sorry. You know….” He got an idea. It was probably a bad idea. But it was an idea he was now trying to talk himself into before the moment was gone.

“Yeah?” Steve said when the silence went on a moment too long, smirking beautifully– _oh god, Bucky, get a grip._

“Um.” Bucky gulped. “I work at Romanoff’s Rock Shop and we’re actually sort of hiring at the moment, you should stop by.” It wasn’t untrue; ever since the last guy had left, Natasha had been complaining about the increased workload and swearing she’d find someone new soon. “You don’t have to, obviously!” he blurted out. “I just, you know, in case that’s something you’d be interested in.”

Steve chuckled. _Get a grip, Barnes._ “I can’t say I know that much about geology or anything, but I might drop in.”

“Oh don’t worry!” Bucky said, maybe a little too quickly. “I didn’t know much either when I first started, but my boss–Natasha–helped me out and I picked it up pretty fast after that.”

Steve nodded. “So what’s that like, what kind of stuff do you sell?”

“Uh, a whole lot of rough samples of a bunch of different minerals, collecting boxes, some polished stones, agate–like, just a shit ton of agate, agate slices, agate geodes, agate bookends. I’m sick to fucking death of agate at this point, but it’s pretty popular. Especially the dyed stuff, which is the kind I’m really sick of. I actually have some natural agate geodes and slices in my own collection that I really like, but….” He looked back up at Steve. “God, I’m sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

Steve just gave him this odd smile. “No, it’s fine, it’s pretty cool that you’re so into it.”

Bucky could feel his face warming at that, willing the color to creep back out of his cheeks before Steve noticed. “Thanks.”

Steve chuckled. “So you collect now? Did you get into that because of the job?”

“Yeah, I honestly had no interest before I got the job, I just applied because I was poor and desperate. And I mean, I’m gonna be honest, the pay’s not fantastic, but it’s enough to live on and it’s a whole lot better than nothing. But yeah, after working there I realized how interesting it actually is, and now I’m kind of obsessed.”

Steve grinned. “Who knows, maybe I’ll turn into a rock hoarder too.”

“I–hey, I’m not a hoarder, I just….”

“How many rocks do you have?”

Bucky stayed silent.

“How many, Buck?”

Bucky’s insides warmed at the nickname. “I don’t know, I’ve lost count,” he admitted.

“Uhuh.”

“Don’t look at me like that! I’m just bad at counting. Let’s see, there’s the hematite, the chalcopyrite, the chrysocolla, the malachite, the fluorite–that’s the kind I dropped on my foot but it was a different one–”

“Bucky, Bucky,” Steve laughed, “don’t hurt yourself on my account.” He yawned. “God, I just want to sleep, my head feels so fuzzy.”

“Don’t you dare sleep, Steve, you know that’s bad right after a head injury.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s a myth, but don’t worry, I won’t. Wouldn’t want to miss them calling my name.”

“Oh. I’d wake you up. Just promise not to die in your sleep, okay? I mean, I only just met you but I’m pretty sure that would ruin my day.”

Steve laughed. “Thought that already happened when you broke your foot.”

“Hey, we don’t know that it’s broken yet, they haven’t x-rayed it.”

“If that piece of fluorite was half as big as you made it sound, then yeah, it’s broken.”

“Fair.”

“You must be in a lot of pain. How long ago did you break it?”

‘Uh, at like nine?”

“Shit, that was a while ago.”

“Yeah, well. Talking to you is a good distraction.”

“Same. I mean, I’m gonna be honest with you, I haven’t been able to follow 100 percent of what you’ve said, too woozy, but yeah. Good.”

“You gonna take that nap or what?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah.”

Bucky scooted a seat over so he was right next to Steve, patting his own shoulder, and without him having to say a word, Steve understood the invitation and rested his head on Bucky’s shoulder. His face was soft and warm and he sighed against Bucky’s skin as his eyes fluttered shut. A minute later he was breathing softly, and Bucky held as still as possible, not wanting to wake him.

Minutes passed, Steve breathing steadily, lulling Bucky. He was ready to fall asleep himself when a voice jolted him out of it.

“Steve Rogers?”

“Steve,” Bucky whispered. “Steve, wake up, I think it’s your turn.”

“Steve Rogers?” the nurse said again.

Steve sat up and rubbed his eyes. He stood then swayed for a moment before following the nurse out of the waiting room. Bucky leaned back into his seat, letting the soft murmur of the people around him lull him into as much of a state of relaxation as he could reach with the pain still throbbing in his foot.

After several more minutes another nurse appeared, calling out, “James Barnes.” He followed, his foot was x-rayed, and it was confirmed that yes, it was broken. He was given a boot and a prescription for painkillers and was sent off tottering on a pair of crutches. He somehow managed to climb into his car, throwing the crutches into the backseat, and drive back to the shop.

He stumbled in, calling out, “Hey, Natasha, I’m back!”

“Bucky, seriously?” she said, appearing from the back room. “You didn’t have to come back in.”

“I wanted to.”

She looked up at him like he was crazy, then stopped. “Your foot is broken, why do you look so happy?”

“I met someone.”

“Oh my god, are you for real? Someone cute, I’m guessing, based on your dopey expression.”

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed.

“What’s his name?”

“Steve. Steve Rogers.”

“What was he in the ER for? I’m assuming that’s where you met him, you better not have run off anywhere else in your condition.”

“Concussion. Also, I may have offered him a job.”

“James! I leave you alone for one minute and you go and fall in love with and then attempt to employ a concussed stranger?”

“Yes.”

“He better be as cute as you say, then. Goddammit, James.”

“He was really, really cute.”

“Did you get his number?”

“Shit.”

“Oh my god James, you better hope he takes you up on your offer and can find the place okay.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Bucky muttered.

“Alright, well I guess since you’re here you’d better make use of yourself. They didn’t give you pain meds, did they? Please tell me you didn’t come to work on narcotics.”

“They gave me some but I didn’t take them, I had to drive.”

“Yeah, and that’s another thing, I can’t believe you actually drove here like this. You should have called me. You really are an idiot.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that, it was fine.”

“Whatever you say, Barnes.”

He spent the rest of the day fumbling to help customers and thinking of Steve Rogers and his bright blue eyes.

The more time went by, the stupider Bucky felt for never asking for Steve’s number. He spent all of each shift in the following days with eyes darting to the door every few minutes, waiting for Steve to walk in. He finally did five days later and Bucky could have cried from relief.

“Hey, Steve!” he called out from across the room. Steve smiled and waved and made his way over. “Let me get my  boss so you can talk to her,” Bucky said. He went into the back room and shouted, “Natasha, Steve came!”

“Jesus Christ, Barnes, I’m right here, you don’t have to yell,” she said, appearing from around the corner.

“Oh, sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She followed Bucky out. Catching sight of Steve over Bucky’s shoulder, she hissed, “Oh damn, he is cute! He’s totally your type.”

“Shh!”

She just chuckled, then held out a hand when they reached Steve. “Hey, I’m Natasha. Bucky’s told me about you.”

“Oh, he has, has he?” Steve smiled, shaking Natasha’s hand. Bucky tried his very best not to turn bright red.

“He tells me you’re interested in working here? Hang on and I can grab you an application from my office.” She disappeared, leaving Bucky and Steve alone.

“So,” said Bucky after a long pause. “I, uh, never got around to getting your number last time. You know, in case you ever wanted to hang out or whatever. It was nice talking to you last time, so….” He’d been staring at his feet the whole time, but when he finished he looked up to see Steve giving him an odd smile. “Here, give me your phone,” Steve said. Bucky fumbled to pull it out of his pocket and hand it over. Steve entered himself into Bucky’s contacts and then handed Bucky his own phone so he could do the same. As Bucky was finishing punching his number into Steve’s phone, Natasha reappeared with an application in hand.

“Honestly, this is just a formality. At this point we’re pretty desperate and Bucky is a good judge of character, so if you can fill this out you’re hired.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, cool.” Bucky handed him a pen and he stood by the counter, pausing over each question and then scribbling down an answer. Fifteen minutes later he handed it back. Natasha scanned over it.

“Great. I’ll have you start tomorrow, 9 to 5. I’ll work up an actual schedule with you when you get here.”

“Alright, thanks.” Steve turned to go, then looked over his shoulder. “See you, Buck.”

As soon as Steve was gone, Bucky was turning to Natasha and melting. “Did you see him? I mean, obviously you saw him but did you _see_ him? I swear, I could just get lost in his eyes for days.” Looking around to make sure there were no customers to get offended by his language, he continued. “God, he’s just so fucking cute, isn’t he? And he’s just so damn nice, he’s so great to talk to, I wanna know everything about him–”

“Okay, slow down Barnes, your crush is showing.”

“God, sorry, he’s just so–”

“Yeah, I get it. He really is cute though. You gonna ask him out?”

“God no.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because I don’t think I could take it if he said no.”

“Oh Bucky, do you need a hug?” Natasha smirked.

“Plus it could make things real awkward real fast. I don’t even know if he’s….you know.”

“Ah. I see.”

“I’d rather at least be friends with him even if I can’t have anything else.”

“I still think you should go for it.”

“Excuse me?” A customer called from across the shop. Bucky jumped up to help her, shooting Natasha a withering glare over his shoulder.

He didn’t come in the next day until 2, and he paused in the doorway to wave at a flustered Steve before entering the mostly empty shop.

“Do you seriously know the names of all these rocks?” Steve hissed at Bucky.

“Yeah, why? Don’t worry, you’ll learn them.”

“The fuck is hemimorphite?”

Bucky giggled. “Why that one in particular?”

“Some guy came in asking about it and insisting he needed some but I had no clue what it was, it sounded made up. Natasha ended up helping him but I just wondered what was so damn special about it.”

“Oh man, hemimorphite is so cool, you don’t even know. Let me show you some.” He led Steve over to the shelves where they kept the large specimens, Steve reaching out to steady him when he wobbled on his crutches. Bucky went to make a grab for one of the pieces and nearly fell over.

“Here, just tell me which one it is and I’ll get it down for you.”

“See that blue-green one? No, no, the one on your left. Yeah, that one.”

Steve pulled down the specimen and stared. “Oh wow, that is nice.”

“Told you.”

“I might have to buy some.”

“And that’s how it starts. 50 percent staff discount.” Bucky winked. “Good luck.”

“Dammit. Now I’m kind of sorry I called you a hoarder.”

A customer walked through the door and started browsing, and Bucky and Steve fell silent, standing side by side behind the counter.

A few minutes later, Bucky was arranging boxes under the counter when the customer came bustling up to them. “What is this?” she asked.

“Uh, I–” Steve stuttered. Chuckling, Bucky pulled himself up and hopped over. Taking it from her hand, he said, “That’s bismuth.”

“Is it natural?” This was still directed at Steve.

“Um, I don’t–” He shot Bucky a bewildered look.

“It’s a naturally occurring element, but we get it from a lab in Germany where they heat it up and then cool it down to get it to form crystals like that.” Smiling, he passed it back to the woman.

“Fascinating! I’ll take this.”

“You got this?” Bucky asked Steve.

“Maybe?”

“Holler if you need anything.” Bucky went back to the boxes. Steve punched the price into the calculator to work out the total with tax.

“Do you take credit card?”

“Uh, yes we do.”

The woman handed over her card and Steve went to the machine. He swiped the card, pressed a few buttons, and then hesitated.

“Uh, Bucky, I might actually need some help. I’ve only done this twice.”

Bucky stood again, grabbing his crutches from where they were leaning on the counter. He joined Steve at the register.

“Okay, so far so good. Now press the green button and select credit.” They waited a moment for the machine to spit out a receipt. “Good, now tell it to print out a customer receipt too.”

Steve brought the receipts back to the counter and had the woman sign. As soon as she was gone, Steve turned to Bucky, a flustered look on his face. “God, sorry, that should have been stupidly obvious, didn’t mean to bother you for nothing.”

Bucky laughed. “No worries. I can’t even tell you how many things I had to void when I first started because I had no idea how to work the cash register.”

“Oh yeah, I keep forgetting to hit the double zero at the end and then it beeps at me.”

Bucky nodded, chuckling. “Oh yeah, I did that all the time. It becomes second nature after a while.”

“Good, because I think Natasha’s gonna kill me if I waste much more paper.”

Bucky snorted just as Natasha appeared out of the back room. “Working hard, I trust?”

“Yes ma’am.” Bucky nodded. She gave him a look and then kept walking.

When Steve announced at 5 that he was heading out, Bucky did his very best to bite back a disappointed groan. Despite how much he loved his job, the rest of his shift passed painfully slowly without Steve’s company, and Bucky couldn’t help but spend every free moment picturing what Steve might be up to now and thinking about how easy it was to get lost in those wide blue eyes. He wondered if Steve had plans for the evening, then thought bitterly about whether or not those plans might be a date. To be honest, he couldn’t imagine someone as beautiful as Steve not dating someone, because who wouldn’t want to be with him? He sighed. Best not to think about that. A customer grabbed his attention and he pushed the thought aside to go help, the ache in his chest not leaving entirely.

Natasha trusted him enough that she usually left him alone to finish up the night shifts and close up, and she left shortly after Steve, leaving Bucky to his own devices. He cashed out at the end of the night, locking up and then wobbling out on his goddamn crutches that he was still not used to out to his car.

He arrived home to an empty apartment. It was nights like these that he wished he at least had a cat or something to come home to, but the landlord wouldn’t hear of it and he was too scared of getting kicked out to risk breaking the rules. Still, he couldn’t help the overwhelming loneliness that seemed to echo through the whole room. He collapsed on the couch, exhausted. He thought again of Steve’s face and his heart leapt in his chest. Without meaning to, he fell asleep there on the couch, looking forward already to seeing Steve again the next day.

Bucky awoke with a start, rolling over to check the time. 11:30. He had plenty of time to get ready for work. Breakfast was first. He struggled to scramble his eggs while wobbling on his crutches, nearly burning himself in the process. After eating, he dug through his wardrobe, searching for something nice that he’d actually want Steve to see him in. Not that he’d be able to keep it up, because most of his clothes were, well, casual at best. But he could at least try to make a good impression for the first couple days and hope it stuck. He managed to find a shirt with buttons and some fairly new pants and decided that was good enough. He did his best to shower while balancing on one leg. He hated showering at the best of times, but this was just ridiculous. He threw on his clothes, staring at his damp reflection and making a face before tying his hair back and grabbing his crutches. He then realized he was ready an hour and a half too early and went into the next room to sink into the couch with his laptop, not getting much done as his eyes darted to the clock every few minutes until it was time to go.

He arrived at work to see Steve looking at least marginally less overwhelmed than the day before.

“Settling in?”

“Yeah, I think so. I’ve only messed up twice today.”

“That’s good, Stevie, soon you’ll be better than me.” Bucky grinned. Steve just rolled his eyes, trying and failing not to smile. “You wanna go over the rocks and try to learn some names?”

“Uh, okay,” Steve said, looking nervous. “But I can’t promise I’ll be able to learn them quickly. Concussion, you know.”

Bucky winced. “Oh, yeah, sorry. But you can at least get familiar with some of the names so you can tell people you’ve heard of what they’re asking for. And it’ll make it easier to learn them all when your head’s feeling better.”

Steve nodded and followed Bucky over to the specimens.

“So is it bad?” Bucky asked.

“What?”

“Your concussion, how bad is it? Should I be worried?”

“Nah, they said it’s pretty mild. I got lucky, everyone else from the accident is still in the hospital. I was in the backseat though, so that probably helped.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay.” The words came out gentler than Bucky had intended. He hoped Steve hadn’t noticed. _Get it together, Barnes._ “Anyway, I’ll just show you some of my favorites.” He held up examples, listing off names and how they could be recognized. That was how they passed the next half hour, until he noticed Steve’s eyes starting to glaze over with fatigue.

“Well, that’s probably enough for now, you at least get the idea. We can pick up again later.”

They returned to behind the counter.

“Slow day,” Steve said.

“Well, it’s sunny today, people would rather be outside.”

Steve laughed.

“What?”

“Just….we’re talking about the weather now? Are we that kind of boring adult?”

“Oh please, I’m basically still twelve.”

“How so?”

“I just….I have no idea what I’m doing. You should see my apartment, it’s a mess because I have like, no concept of adult responsibilities like cleaning and cooking edible food. It’s kind of like a metaphor for my life. And I could swear that if anything I’ve gone backward in romantic experience.”

Steve choked back a laugh.

“Seriously! I definitely got more dates when I was twelve than I do now. I haven’t been on a date in like a year.”

“Oh wow, that’s bad.”

“Thanks, Rogers.”

“I’d make fun of you but my last girlfriend dumped me a year and a half ago and it’s been even longer since I’ve had a boyfriend so, you know.”

Oh. So Steve was single. And bisexual or whatever, apparently. _Chill, Barnes._ He still had no chance. He wasn’t sure what to say next so he just nodded. And _shit,_ did Steve just flutter his eyelashes? No, Bucky was just imagining things, he was losing his mind or something. Then he thought harder about what Steve had just said and frowned.

“Wait, did you say _she_ dumped _you_? Because I’m not sure I believe that.”

Steve laughed. “Seriously? I’m surprised she stuck around as long as she did.”

Bucky’s frown deepened. “What do you mean?”

“Have you seen me?”

“I mean, obviously. I’m looking at you now.”

“Look. I’m pale and tiny and I’m not even that interesting to make up for it. Pretty much everyone is out of my league and when they realize that, they leave.”

“Steve, you can’t possibly think that.”

“It’s not like you know me that well.” Steve looked mildly irritated now. Bucky wanted to argue further, get Steve to realize how perfect he was, but he wasn’t in the mood for giving himself away right now, and he didn’t want to risk pissing Steve off over something he was defensive about. “Sorry, I just….” he muttered instead. Steve’s expression softened.

“No, it’s okay, it’s not you. I just get sick of feeling invisible after a while.”

And that was when Bucky’s heart shattered. He just wanted to gather Steve up in his arms and tell him how beautiful he was until Steve finally believed him. But he didn’t. Instead he just squeezed Steve's shoulder, giving him a tight smile, and then went to rearrange the agate shelves. Anything to distract himself from the look on Steve’s face when he’d talked about the way other people saw him and the way he saw himself.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I'm so sorry this took so long for me to post, I ended up kind of losing it and being hospitalized for my depression so I had no internet access for ten days straight. I hope it's okay, I haven't read it since before I left and I don't think it's proofread well enough but I really want it up and I don't have the energy to read back over it right now. Feedback is super appreciated, it makes my day! I'm hearteyesmonroe on tumblr, come say hey if you want to.

The first time Steve laid eyes on Bucky, he wasn’t sure whether the wave of lightheadedness he felt was because of him or the concussion. Still, it went without saying that he was a little shocked a guy like that was even giving him the time of day. Bucky rambling about his job while Steve only half listened may have been the cutest thing he’d ever seen, even if he barely understood a word the guy was saying between the blood rushing in his ears and the fact that he had no clue what fluorite was supposed to be. And then Bucky moved closer after Steve mentioned his exhaustion, the invitation clear. Leaning his head against Bucky’s solid shoulder put him to sleep almost instantly, and he tried to push down the disappointment that filled him when Bucky woke him. The doctors told him that he definitely had a concussion, but that it wasn’t bad and should clear up in a couple weeks. When he returned to the waiting room, Bucky was gone. He realized that they hadn’t even exchanged numbers and cursed under his breath. He hoped he could manage to remember the name of that rock shop.

The second time he saw Bucky was at the shop after almost a week of researching all the rock shops in the city and hoping one of the names seemed familiar, and he attributed the returning head rush when he walked through the door to his delayed recovery. He’d always been a slow healer, and he was still getting daily migraine-like headaches that he hoped wouldn’t impede his ability to work. Bucky’s smile could have illuminated the whole room when he saw Steve walk in. Weird. While Bucky ran to get his boss, Steve looked around the tiny shop at all the rocks and minerals covering the shelves and countertops. It was oddly cozy and he felt like in time he might even be able to feel at home here. Bucky returned with a petite but intimidating redhead a few moments later and she handed Steve an application that he proceeded to pore over in minute detail, because his head was still messing him up and he didn’t want to look stupid by answering wrong somehow. He left with Bucky’s number in his phone and no idea what to do about it. He wanted to make use of it but the idea of texting someone first always made him feel ill. And he felt even sicker this time around for some reason.

The third time, he just figured the feeling rushing over him was relief at having someone else in the shop to lend a hand after five hours of slow torture at the hands of dozens of customers whose questions he couldn’t answer. Bucky had swooped in on his crutches to rescue Steve from the mysterious horrors of the credit card machine and Steve couldn’t express how grateful he was. He wanted to smack himself for wasting Bucky's time and making himself look stupid, but it was worth it for the sound of Bucky's laughter and his admission that he'd been at least as bad as Steve when he first started. The image of Bucky, who seemed so relaxed and used to his job, voiding out receipt after receipt was both difficult to believe and kind of hilarious. He found himself lingering an extra few minutes after it was time for him to go, but unable to pinpoint why it was so hard for him to tear himself away.

The fourth time the feeling happened, he wasn’t anywhere near Bucky. Instead, he was holding his phone in his hand, staring at Bucky’s number in his contacts and not planning on doing anything about it. He set the phone aside a few times and then picked it back up, hoping against hope that maybe Bucky would message him first and save him the trouble. He wondered when his concussion symptoms would clear up and lay down on the couch for the night.

The fifth time was the next night, when Bucky agreed to hang out the next day, and this time it was accompanied by a stomach clench that left him reeling. And that was the moment it dawned on him that maybe he should be associating it with Bucky. To test that theory, he closed his eyes and pictured Bucky’s gentle gray gaze, his easy smile that turned up the already curved edges of his mouth even more, the way his sturdy arms might feel wrapped around him. And there it was. That feeling rushed in more powerfully than ever, enough that he was glad he was seated. Shit. He was actually kind of impressed with how long it took him to figure that one out, as infuriating as his own slowness was to him. It wasn’t as if he’d never had a crush before. He’d had plenty. But this one felt different somehow. Maybe it was just the lingering effects of his head injury, maybe it was something more. He decided not to dwell on it and set the phone aside.

His mind kept going back to the expression on Bucky’s face during their last in-person conversation. It was probably too much to hope that Bucky’s words meant anything, but at least the look of surprise on his face when Steve had discussed his failed romantic history had looked genuine. He had to remind himself that the look on Bucky’s face didn’t mean he liked him like that, _there was no way_. Not someone like Bucky. God no, what was he even thinking?

He hadn’t been lying or exaggerating when he’d said that everyone left. Every time he met someone, he’d hope they’d be different, that they’d see through his lacking appearance and instead see who he really was, and when that happened they’d want to stay around. But no luck. He was convinced that at least half the people who dated him did so out of pity, and the other half out of ignorance or sheer stupidity. When his health caused trouble, when he got in one of his moods, when he woke with a start after one of his nightmares where he was back at school with his tormentors or next to his mother, tears streaming down his face as he watched her die,  when these things happened, everyone was gone in an instant.

He didn’t even have any close friends, that was the saddest part. They left just like his romantic partners when things got tough, and he’d had to learn to get by on his own. His mother had always been there for him, the most important person in his life, and he’d been left in the wake of her death devastated and alone in the world. So as much as Bucky made his head spin and his heart pound, Steve would have settled for having him as a friend and nothing more. Still, though, he couldn’t help but hope.

So that left the question of what they were even going to do together the next day. He had not thought this through, he’d just texted Bucky in a moment of rashness before he lost his nerve. He had one idea, but it seemed kind of stupid. Still, if he didn’t think of anything better in the next twenty hours, he’d just have to go with it.

Three hours of stewing on the couch later he still had no clue what else to do. Goddamn, he was gonna look like an idiot tomorrow, but it was probably going to be the best he could come up with, and if he didn’t start preparing now it would be even worse. Sighing, he hauled himself off the couch and went to the closet to collect some things. He knew that at this rate he’d be up all night from nerves and he dreaded how exhausted he was going to look the next day in front of Bucky. It was going to be a long wait until the next day.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Bucky sat stiffly on the couch, broken foot propped up on the coffee table, phone in hand. He was going to do it. He was going to text Steve. Text him and….what? Ask him out? Hell no. Maybe someday he’d work up the nerve, but today was not that day. His thumbs hovered over the screen while he practically dared himself to type something, anything, and hit send. He took a deep breath, willing himself to do it. And then he let the breath out and was setting his phone aside when a text popped up. From Steve.

STEVE: Hey what’s up

BUCKY: Hi not much, how about you?

STEVE: I was wondering, since tomorrow’s my day off, wanna hang out after you’re done working?

Bucky blinked at the screen. Well, that solved that problem.

BUCKY: Yeah, sure. Wanna meet me at the shop?

STEVE: Sounds good, see you there

Bucky set down the phone, heart racing. It wasn’t a date, obviously, but it was a _something_ ; more importantly, it was time alone with Steve. He couldn’t help the smile creeping across his face, it was that kind of smile that happens no matter how hard you try to stop it.

The next morning, he was even more focused on his appearance than the day before. He was _meeting Steve_ after work, he had to look at least somewhat put together. He took extra time staring at his hair, trying to figure out what to do with it. There was no doubt it was getting too long but there was nothing he could do about that now so he just threw it into a messy bun and rushed out the door. Whatever. At least his shirt was nice. Not that it mattered with how stupid that boot on his broken foot looked. God he couldn’t wait until he could stop wearing that thing.

Natasha eyed him as he came in. “You’ve looked uncharacteristically nice the last few days,” she said. “You know Steve’s not working today, right?”

He glared. “I know, I’m meeting him after work.”

_“Oooh!”_ she gasped. “Is it a date?”

His eyes widened. “No! No, it’s not a date.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yes, Natasha.”

“Too bad, it would be super cute if it were.”

“Shut it, Natasha.”

“Okay, okay,” she said, holding up her hands in defeat.

“I mean, god knows I wish it was, but….”

She laughed. “You gotta just ask him, Barnes. Have you seen him? He’s not that intimidating.”

Bucky shook his head. “Clearly you don’t know him that well then.”

She just laughed. “Whatever you say, James.”

He scowled. “I’ve told you not to call me that.”

“Whatever you say, _Bucky_.”

He squinted his eyes at her and then went to sit behind the counter. As customers trickled in, he tried to contain himself and focus on helping people, but all he could think of was his excitement at getting to see Steve later. And if the occasional thought slipped in of the way Steve’s lips would taste, that was something only he had to know.

Business was painfully slow and Bucky couldn’t help but twitch in his chair behind the counter, fingers itching to grab his crutches and take off in search of Steve right that instant. But he reeled himself in and held it together, helping customers and giving Natasha a strained smile every time they made eye contact.

As soon as it was 5 o’clock, though, he was on his feet with his crutches in hand, enthusiastically waving goodbye to Natasha, who was still stuck there until 10 that night, and heading out the door. He realized as soon as he got out that he’d agreed to meet Steve at the shop and that therefore there was no point in being in such a rush, but he didn’t want to go back in now, so he plopped down on a nearby bench to wait. Waiting meant he had a chance to worry. What if Steve had forgotten, or changed his mind, or _what if he got hit by a car?_ The horrifying possibilities seemed endless. He was fidgeting with his hands and chewing his lip, crutches discarded in a pile beside the bench, when he heard footsteps behind him. He sat up straight, whipping his head around to see Steve standing there, a small smile on his face while he held something large behind his back.

“Hey,” said Steve.

“Hey.

“So I, uh.”

“What?”

“Okay, this sounds really dumb, especially now that I’m in the middle of telling you about it, but I thought, if you didn’t have any better ideas, which if you do that’s great because this one is terrible, that we could–” He opened and closed his mouth a few times and Bucky was about to ask him if he was okay when, blushing, Steve revealed what he’d been holding behind his back. It was a picnic basket. Bucky’s face broke into a wide grin.

“You wanna take me on a picnic, Stevie?”

“I told you, it’s dumb, I don’t even know why I thought of it, I just–”

“Steve, hey, no, I love it. I haven’t been on a picnic since I was like eight years old, I can’t believe you thought of that.”

Steve blinked. “So you don’t think I’m an idiot?”

Bucky laughed. “God no, it’s perfect.”

Steve let out a deep breath. “Oh good, I thought you were never going to speak to me again after you realized what a nerd I am.”

“Steve, have you even met me? If either of us is a complete nerd, it’s me. I literally just ramble about rocks when I’m nervous, who even does that?”

“Yeah, not gonna lie, I did think it was a little odd when you did that in the ER.”

Bucky cringed. “Yeah, god, sorry, I still haven’t properly apologized for that. I was in a lot of pain, not that that excuses it.” _And you were really fucking cute and I freaked out._

“No, don’t worry about it, it was funny and I kind of needed the distraction.”

“So are we going somewhere?”

“What? Oh sorry, yeah, the park?”

Luckily for Bucky, it was only a short walk, and Steve walked at a slow pace so he could keep up. The park, when they arrived, was beautiful. Crisp autumn leaves hung from the trees and blew across the grass. There was a chill in the air, and Steve wrapped his jacket around himself tighter. Bucky looked over at him. He had his arms wrapped around himself and his cheeks and nose were turning red. _Fuck_. Bucky had to look away before he did something stupid like kiss the guy. Or hell, even just fall flat on his face because he wasn’t watching where he was going. He shook his head and faced forward, letting Steve get a little ahead so he could follow behind and not be tempted to keep staring. Except shit, he hadn’t considered how now that he was behind Steve he had a perfect and very distracting view of his ass. Shit, he had not thought this through at all. He stumbled, catching himself with one of his crutches, and Steve whipped around, a concerned look on his face.

“You alright? What happened?”

Bucky was not about to tell him why he really tripped. “Still not used to these,” he said instead.

Steve giggled. “It’s been like a week.”

“What can I say, I’m a clumsy mess.”

Steve snorted. “Clearly.”

Bucky followed Steve the rest of the way, trying his best and mostly failing to ignore Steve’s figure in favor of watching the path ahead of him. When Steve finally stopped, Bucky was so distracted trying to focus that he stumbled again, almost slamming into Steve.

“You sure you’re okay, Buck?”

“Yeah, totally, these things just really get in the way.”

Steve gave him a look but didn’t say anything else, instead setting down the basket and pulling out a blanket and spreading it out on the grass. Bucky plopped down and tossed his crutches to the side. “So what did you even bring?”

“Just sandwiches, I’m a terrible cook.”

“Sandwiches are great, I’m starved.”

Steve pulled them out and handed one over. Bucky took a bite and had to hold back a sigh. It was just ham and cheese but it was the best sandwich he had ever tasted, because Steve made it, and he realized that even Steve was as terrible a cook as he claimed to be, he’d eat anything he handed him and eat it gladly. Even if it was literal poison, probably. _Seriously Bucky, chill._ He found himself a little shocked at himself, but couldn’t really bring himself to care, not when Steve was looking at him expectantly.

“Is it okay? Because it would be just like me to screw up something as simple as a sandwich.”

“Steve, hush, it’s great.”

“Oh. Good.” Steve took a bite of his own sandwich and made a face. “Could be better.”

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

Steve snorted.

“So how are you settling into work?”

“Good, it’s been too long since I’ve had a real job. I was nervous at first but I think this is good.”

Bucky tilted his head. “What did you do when you didn’t have a real job?”

Steve shrugged. “Lived off ramen, mostly. I did a lot of drawing to pass the time, I even sold a little artwork but I didn’t make nearly enough off it.”

“Oh, you’re an artist?” Bucky was starting to wonder if there was anything that wasn’t wonderful about Steve.

“I mean, I’m okay. Ideally it’d be my only job, but it’s so hard to make that happen.”

“I bet you could make it work, eventually.”

Steve shook his head. “You’re just saying that, I know what people really think of it, they think it’s stupid, and I’m not even that good.”

Bucky frowned. “I don’t think it’s stupid. And don’t sell yourself short, I’m sure you’re a great artist.” He couldn’t tell if Steve was red from the cold or because he was blushing, but he was glad to see a small smile creep onto his face.

“Well, thank you for saying so.”

“Hey, we still have plenty of time, you wanna do something after we’re done here? We could get ice cream, wander around….”

“Wander around? With you on crutches?”

“Well, as I’ve proven multiple times today, I need the practice.”

“How much longer are you going to be on those things?”

“I dunno, they said my foot would be fully healed in like six weeks?”

“Oh wow.”

“Yeah, I know, what a pain.”

They finished up and Bucky moved off the blanket so Steve could fold it and put it away.

“Do you mind if we drop this stuff off at my apartment first? It’s not far.” Bucky nodded and Steve gathered up his things.

He wasn’t lying, it was only about a five minute walk, which even Bucky could manage without falling over.

“Don’t worry,” Steve said as he swung the door open and held it for Bucky. “There’s an elevator.”

Bucky followed Steve and somehow managed to almost have the elevator door close on him on his way in. A short ride later and they were on the fourth floor. Steve passed several doors before producing a key and unlocking one, and Bucky followed him inside.

Steve’s apartment was small and filled wall to wall with his things. A pile of laundry sat off to one corner, there were books scattered across the table, and various other things sat in stacks everywhere.

“Sorry for the mess.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “You’re only saying that because you haven’t seen my apartment. I like it, it looks like you.”

“Uh, thanks.”

Bucky laughed. “It’s a good thing, I swear.”

Steve dropped the basket next to the couch. “I keep telling myself I’ll clean soon and then I never do, I just keep making it worse.”

“I know what you mean, I haven’t picked up my shit in months.”

“Did you want anything while we’re here? Tea or whatever?”

Bucky smiled but shook his head. “I don’t want to trouble you.”

Steve shrugged. “Suit yourself. Ready to go then?”

Bucky took one last look around, wanting to remember every detail. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s go.”

They walked in companionable silence to a nearby ice cream stand, where Bucky got chocolate and Steve got vanilla.

When they were handed their ice cream, Bucky stared at the cone the person behind the counter was trying to hand him. “Shit, wait, how do I–”

“I’ll hold it, Buck, we’ll go sit down.”

“Oh, okay, thanks.”

They moved to a park bench and Steve handed Bucky his ice cream.

“Hey, what are you doing for Halloween?” Bucky said.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Halloween?”

“Um, yes, it’s the best holiday ever, don’t look so skeptical.”

“Alright, alright. I’m not doing anything though. Why, what are you doing?”

“Natasha throws a party every year. I don’t know if you could actually tell, because she’s terrifying, but in addition to being my boss we’re also totally buddies.”

“Are you wearing a costume?”

“Uh, of course I am. But it’s a secret.”

“Such a tease.”

“You’d find out if you came with.”

“Wouldn’t she mind?”

“Hell no, she told me to ask you.” In fact, Natasha had cornered him earlier during his shift to tell him that if he was going to moon over Steve, the least he could do was involve him in his social life.

“Oh. Okay then. I’ll consider it.”

“You better. I mean, it’s fine if your other friends make plans, but otherwise you should totally come.”

“I–” Steve looked like he was trying to stare a hole into his ice cream cone.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just. They won’t, trust me.”

“Okay. Good. I mean, not good, exactly, it would be cool if they did, but good that you can maybe come.”

Steve laughed. “It’s okay Buck, I know what you meant.”

“What do you think you’d go as?”

“Hey, if I have to wait then so do you.”

Bucky pouted. “You’re so mean.”

“Honestly I just have no idea.”

“Well, I’d offer to help but since it’s so super secret apparently, maybe Natasha could help. She loves Halloween almost as much as I do.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

They finished and Steve helped Bucky stand.

“Do you want me to walk you back to your car?” Steve asked.

“Sure, sounds good.” _Anything to spend more time with you_. “If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, I need the exercise. Gotta build up my strength.”

Bucky looked over to smile at Steve and _did Steve just wink?_ God, everything about him was just impossibly adorable. It made Bucky want to die a little bit sometimes.

The walk back was entirely too short.

“Do you want me to drive you back, return the favor?” Bucky hoped Steve didn’t pick up on the hope in his voice.

Steve chuckled. “I’m not sure I trust your driving with that injury.”

“Hey,” Bucky said, pouting, “my driving is fine. I didn’t break my driving foot.”

Steve snorted. “Your driving foot,” he muttered.

“Get in the car, Rogers.”

Steve complied, walking around the car to slide in next to Bucky. “Remember where it is?”

“I’m not the one who hit his head.”

“Ooh, harsh words, Buck. I’m wounded.”

“No, but seriously, tell me if I make a wrong turn. I don’t want to get us lost.”

Bucky did take a wrong turn five minutes later and Steve didn’t let him hear the end of it for the rest of the car ride, repeatedly asking him if he was sure he hadn’t hit his head. Bucky dropped him off with a “Get out of my car, punk,” and Steve answered, “See you, jerk,” grinning as he got out. Bucky watched him with a soft expression until he was in the building, then sighed, leaning against the steering wheel. It was probably time to admit to himself that he was completely hopeless over Steve Rogers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, feedback is super appreciated and I'm hearteyesmonroe on tumblr so come say hello!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD I'M ACTUAL FUCKING TRASH OKAY I'M SO FUCKING SORRY  
> I meant to get this posted the day of Halloween because there is a STRONG Halloween theme here (my favorite holiday, hurray!) but somehow the time got away from me and here we are a month later and uhhhhh yeah sorry about that. I'll try to get the inevitable Christmas chapter up in a timely manner and also hopefully there'll be a chapter or two before then as well but yeah anyway hopefully you all enjoy this long-overdue chapter.

“Natasha, no, I am not putting that on!”

“C’mon, Steve, you promised!”

“When I promised to put on whatever costume you picked out, I didn’t think you’d force me into a women’s spy costume!”

“Um, it’s a _sexy_ spy costume, it doesn’t specify gender. Besides, you’re only what, 5’4”? It’ll probably fit you perfectly. Unless it offends your fragile male ego, of course, in which case….”

Steve opened his mouth to argue and then shut it in favor of grabbing the offending costume out of her hands with a glare.

“Fine,” he snipped.

Inside the changing room, he took a deep breath, casting a helpless look up to the ceiling. He couldn’t believe he was actually going to do this. Without looking in the mirror, he stepped out of his clothes and into the costume. He swung open the door.

“Ahh, you’re adorable! Bucky’s gonna love it!”

“Shh, keep your voice down. And what does Bucky have to do with any of this?”

She gave him a look that said _Do you think I’m stupid?_ “Oh, come on, Steve, I see how you look at him.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He was getting nervous now. No one was supposed to know, it would just add to the embarrassment of having a crush on someone he would never have.

“It means you like him, obviously. It’s not like you’re subtle about it or anything.”

 _Crap, she knows_. “Oh my god, Natasha, no one else knows, right? You haven’t told him, have you?”

She cackled. “No, amazingly that idiot is still completely oblivious. But you’re really not fooling anyone else. I’ve actually had customers ask me if you were dating.”

Steve turned bright red. “Oh no, oh my god, he can’t know, Natasha, he’d think I’m such an idiot, what if he didn’t even want to be friends anymore?”

“Wow, slow down there Rogers. For all you know, he likes you back.”

“Trust me, he doesn’t.” Steve’s tone was flat and final.

Natasha muttered something inaudible.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing, don’t worry about it. But if you really like him as much as I think you do, you should just ask him.”

Steve snorted, but the sound was unamused. “Sure, and embarrass myself.”

She shook her head. “Fine, whatever. But at least do me a favor and….”

“What?” he sighed.

“Wear that costume to the party?”

“Natasha!”

“What? C’mon, Steve, you look hot. If anything is gonna help you seduce him, that outfit is.”

“I kind of hate you right now.”

“But you’ll wear it?”

He groaned. “Well….”

“Yes?”

“It’s not like any of the men’s costumes are gonna fit me that well, so I guess….”

_“Yes?”_

_“Fine.”_

“YES!”

“Oh my god, keep it down, Nat!”

“Sorry, I just can’t wait for everyone to see you like this at the party.”

The color drained from Steve’s face. “Oh my god, I’m gonna be meeting all your friends–all of _his_ friends–for the first time like this.” The realization was horrifying.

“Too late to back out now, you already promised!”

“Natasha, please, take pity on me.” The words came out almost as a whine. He was desperate now.

“Don’t you want to look good for your Bucky?” Natasha had an infuriating smirk on her face.

Steve wailed. “This is a disaster. Please Natasha, anything else! I’ll go as a fucking bumblebee if you want me to, just don’t make me wear the sexy spy costume.”

“Don’t you want to impress him?” The look in her eyes was dangerous.

“I mean, yeah, of course, but I’m not sure this is really the way to go about it.”

“Neither is dressing like a bumblebee.”

“I’m really not getting out of this, am I?”

“Nope.”

“Goddammit Natasha, you’re the worst.”

He made her pay for the costume while he stood a few feet behind her, avoiding the cashier’s eyes. Outside the shop she shoved the bag into his hands.

“You’re not letting this go.” It wasn’t a question.

“No chance.”

As she was driving him home, he met all her attempts at making conversation with a sullen pout. He was not going to let her forget this. He may be wearing the costume, but she owed him.

She let him out and he went into his apartment to sulk. He took the costume out of the bag and stared at it. He’d been stupid to let Natasha trick him into agreeing.

His phone buzzed.

He picked it up and stared down at it. One new text from Bucky Barnes.

BUCKY: No but seriously I cannot wait for you to see my costume, it’s brilliant

Steve read the message twice, groaning.

STEVE: I have a costume too

BUCKY: No way! What is it?

STEVE: Haha nice try but you can’t trick me

BUCKY: Dammit

STEVE: Just know that it’s horrible and embarrassing and Natasha made me do it so please don’t judge me too harshly when you see it

BUCKY: I promise I won’t

STEVE: And don’t you dare fucking laugh

BUCKY: I wouldn’t dream of it

Steve smiled down at his phone. Well, that made him feel a little better about the whole thing.

The wait until Halloween was a nightmare.

Every evening he went into his closet and stared down the costume, trying to come to terms with the fact that he’d have to wear that awful thing in front of people he wanted to like him. After all, they were Bucky’s best friends. If, in theory, they _did_ start dating (yeah right), he’d want to be able to get along with them. Bonus points if they didn’t think he was an idiot. Besides, maybe he’d actually make friends with them himself. That would be nice. To have friends for once.

Then he’d shake his head, realizing how stupid he was being, and go off to do something else. Watch television, read a book. Maybe text Bucky. He loved texting Bucky. It was almost as good as talking to him in person, and it was certainly easier. He had time to think of a witty response to everything Bucky had to say, and there was no one there to see him blush when Bucky said something particularly sweet.

And then all of a sudden, it was Halloween. It was, coincidentally, his day off, which meant, oh good, he had plenty of time to stew over how humiliating his night was going to be.

His phone went off at 5 pm.

BUCKY: Hey you excited for tonight?

STEVE: Did you just get off work?

BUCKY: Yes, don’t avoid the question

STEVE: I don’t know, maybe? It’ll be cool to meet your friends

BUCKY: But?

STEVE: But my costume is humiliating and they’re gonna think I’m an idiot

BUCKY: I’ll defend you from my big bad friends, don’t worry

STEVE: Thanks, I think

BUCKY: No problem

STEVE: But honestly you’ll think I’m an idiot too

BUCKY: I would never think that

Steve blushed.

STEVE: You’re only saying that because you haven’t seen my costume yet

BUCKY: Fair point

STEVE: What time does it start, again?

BUCKY: 7

STEVE: Okay, maybe I’ll get ready soon

BUCKY: Okay see you there

Steve smiled at his phone for a minute before turning it off and placing it on the table. He took a deep breath and went upstairs to change. Good lord.

He pulled on the tight costume with his eyes squeezed shut, then realized he might as well see how he looked and took a peek in the mirror. He sighed. Even stupider than he remembered.

He spent the time between then and the time he needed to leave playing stupid games on his phone and trying to ignore the pull of the tight fabric. At 6:30 he huffed and pulled himself off the couch and finally left for the party, as if he was headed for his doom.

He basically was, when he thought about it.

He tried not to think about it.

And then he found himself there, knocking on Natasha’s door and crossing his fingers that he was at the right place because it would be even more embarrassing if he wasn’t. The door swung open and there was Natasha, dressed as a cat.

She took one look at him and started laughing.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “It’s all your fault anyway. And a cat, really? Could you get any more cliche?”

“I’m not laughing at the costume,” she wheezed, “It’s your face, you look so put out.”

“Because I look dumb. Which, again, is your fault.”

“Come in, I want you to meet some people.”

“Is–”

“He’s not here yet, don’t worry. You’ll have some time to brace yourself.”

Steve followed her inside and was immediately faced with a blond man who was currently making an enormous pile of chips on a plate. It looked like it was about to topple over.

“This is Clint,” Natasha said. “Clint, if you drop those on my floor, you’re picking them up.”

Clint just grunted and added another chip. It was too much and several chips slid off the top of the pile and onto the floor. He swore and leaned over to pick them up.

“Oh no, please don’t tell me you’re going to eat those,” Natasha groaned. Clint shrugged, dipped one of the offending chips in the dip set out on the table, and popped it in his mouth.

“Okay, no kisses for you for the rest of the night,” Natasha said.

“Natasha,” Clint whined, “five second rule, it’s not that bad.”

“Should have listened to me when you had the chance.”

Clint huffed and went into the next room. Natasha followed him and Steve followed her.

In that room, there was a playful argument going on between two men, one much taller than the other. In the corner sat a much quieter man, sipping a drink.

“Everyone, this is Steve. Steve, these two idiots are Sam and Tony,” Natasha said, gesturing between the two of them, “and over there is Bruce.”

Steve waved awkwardly, then settled into a soft chair.

“Nice costume,” Tony said, grinning. Steve blushed. “No, really,” Tony continued, “it’s fantastic. Did Natasha help you pick it out? She’s good at that.”

“Uh, yeah,” said Steve, blushing harder.

“Don’t worry about Tony,” Sam said. “He’s more harmless than he seems. He’s right, though. Great costume.”

“Um.” Steve had no idea what to even say to that. Apparently they didn’t think he looked stupid? That was weird. Maybe he should question their judgement and whether he should actually be friends with them. But they seemed so nice.

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

“I keep telling him he can just open the door,” Natasha muttered, going to answer it.

Steve’s eyes grew wide. “Is that Bucky?”

“Who else would it be?” Sam said. “Why do you look so worried?”

Steve looked worried because when it came down to it, Bucky’s was the only opinion that mattered to him.

He heard Bucky and Natasha loudly greeting each other in the doorway and fidgeted in his seat, avoiding Sam’s question. But then his eyes flicked over to everyone in the room, and oh no. Bruce was staring into his drink still, but now with a smile pulling at his mouth, and Sam and Tony were looking at him with the same amused expression. Oh shit, did everyone have to figure it out? Was he really that obvious? Was Bucky going to walk through the door, take one look at Steve, and go “Oh my god, you _like me?_ What the hell?”

“Steve!”

Steve’s head swung back around to see….a skeleton. Well, more like someone in a skeleton costume that basically looked like black pajamas with bones printed on them. It was topped off with a goofy mask covering his entire head.

“Bucky? You in there?” Steve said, smiling.

“Steve, you look great, I don’t know what you were talking about when you said your costume was dumb.”

“You told him that?” Natasha said, glaring.

Rather than answer her or acknowledge Bucky’s compliment, Steve said, “You’re a skeleton.”

“Yeah, get it? Because I broke a bone?”

Steve buried his face in his hands, chuckling at how painful Bucky’s joke was. “Oh my god, Buck.”

Bucky pulled off the mask, grinning at Steve’s reaction and his hair sticking out in all directions. “You like it?”

“Yes, Bucky, I like it.” Steve stood and approached Bucky. He mussed up Bucky’s hair, smiling and trying not to blush at his own boldness. “This, not so much. Get a hairbrush or something.”

Bucky stuck out his tongue. “I can’t help it if this thing is staticky,” he said, waving the mask at Steve.

They just stood there for a moment, grinning at each other, until someone coughed behind them.

Bucky blinked a few times, and then the smile was back, only it was a different one, a smile for everyone. “So what are we doing?”

“Well, I for one wanted to play truth or dare,” Tony said, “but someone doesn’t want to.” He glared over at Bruce.

“I’m too old for this shit,” Bruce muttered.

“Aww, c’mon Bruce, it’ll be fun,” said Bucky.

“Yeah, Bruce,” said Tony.

“Fine, fine, if you two are going to gang up on me then we might as well.”

Steve gulped and tried to look relaxed as Natasha waggled her eyebrows at him. Shit.

“How should we do this? Names in a hat?” she asked. They all nodded and she grabbed a pad of sticky notes and a pencil and handed them out. Steve’s hand trembled as he wrote down his name and dropped it in the hat Natasha shoved in his face.

They sat down in a circle and Natasha drew a name. “Bruce!” she called out, a gleeful expression on her face.

“Jesus christ, I did not ask for this.”

“Truth or dare, Bruce?”

He sighed. “Truth.”

“Do you secretly hate anyone in this room?”

“Yeah, Tony for suggesting this stupid game.”

“I’ll accept that. Now you draw.”

He sighed and reached into the hat. He smirked when he saw the name. “Tony! Truth or dare?”

“Dare!”

Bruce thought about it. “Jump out the window.”

“That’s dangerous!”

“We’re on the first floor, Tony.”

“Do it, Tony!” Bucky said, grinning.

“Ugh, fine,” he grumbled. He pushed the window open and forced his way through it, then toppled out onto the other side. “I’m okay!” they heard, and then there was a scuffling sound as he got back up. A moment later they heard the door swing open and he came limping back into the room.

“Oh Tony, that’s pathetic,” Natasha laughed. “Stop being such a baby.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He reached into the hat. “Bucky!”

“Dare.”

Tony pretended to think, stroking his chin, but it was obvious he already had an idea and he was just teasing. After a long pause, he said, “Kiss Steve on the mouth.”

Everyone gaped at Tony’s forwardness except Bucky, who shrugged. “If Steve doesn’t mind,” he said.

Steve just nodded mutely, and Bucky took the sign to go ahead and leaned in.

The meeting of their lips was electric. It was fairly chaste at first, just a gentle press, and then Bucky’s tongue was running along Steve’s bottom lip and he opened his mouth involuntarily. Bucky slipped into Steve’s mouth and Steve sighed without meaning to. Bucky just pressed his mouth to Steve’s harder in response, a hand lightly cupping his cheek.

They were interrupted by a low whistle from Tony’s direction. Bucky pulled away and mock glared. “Fuck off, Tony,” he said, smirking.

Steve blushed. “I’m just gonna get another soda,” he stuttered as he stood and stumbled out of the room. As he left, Bucky shot him a silent concerned glance, his brows furrowing. Steve just gave him a weak smile and rounded the corner. As soon as he was out of sight, he took off in search of the bathroom. After that incident, he wanted to be alone.

He found it quickly and locked the door behind him, then slid down the wall, tucking his knees up against his chest. He tried to take a deep breath and failed. How was Bucky so nonchalant about all this? Not to mention that Steve had been so shocked he’d almost entirely forgotten to kiss back, probably leaving Bucky with a terrible impression of his kisses forever.

Fifteen minutes went by where he just sat there doing nothing but trying to breathe. He was finally calming down and trying not to think about what everyone must think of him by now when there was a knock at the door. He nearly jumped three feet in the air, clutching his chest.

“Stevie, you in there?” Bucky’s voice was soft and almost….vulnerable.

“Yeah,” Steve gasped.

“Are you okay? You kind of disappeared on me.”

“I’m fine.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?” His voice was very soft now, like he didn’t want anyone else to hear.

Steve’s stomach dropped at the thought that Bucky could feel in any way responsible. “What? No, of course not, Buck. I just need a minute.”

“Oh….okay.”

Steve listened to the trail of footsteps getting further away. He stood up and splashed water on his face and then tentatively opened the door. When the coast seemed clear, he took one last deep breath, shaking his head to clear it, and went back into the living room where everyone else was still sitting on the floor. Sam seemed to be doing some sort of silly dance on a dare while Bucky sat a little away from the rest of the group, chin resting on his knees. His eye caught Steve and he gave a shaky smile.

“Hey,” Bucky said.

“Hey.”

Natasha turned around. “Hey! You okay, Steve? You disappeared for a while there.”

“Oh, yeah. I, uh, my health is kind of terrible and I felt kind of sick all of a sudden. It’s nothing.” It wasn’t technically a lie. Those two things were true separately, it was just that in this case they weren’t actually related.

“I’m sorry, man,” Sam said, stopping the dance. “Hey, did you ever get that soda?”

“What? I–oh, no, I guess not.”

“Let me get it for you. One second.”

“O-okay.” Steve took a careful seat on the couch. A minute later, Sam was back with a can of ginger ale.

“Thanks,” Steve said, cracking it open and taking a sip. The sweet flavor soothed him, and he felt a little better about the whole thing. Bucky’s friends were really nice.

He didn’t look back up until he felt the couch shift and he raised his eyes to meet Bucky’s at the opposite end. He had pushed himself all the way up against the cushion as if he was scared to get too close. “How are you feeling?” he said, barely above a whisper.

Steve shot him a smile that he hoped was reassuring. “I’m okay now.”

“Look, I’m sorry if–”

Steve shook his head. “I told you, Buck, you didn’t do anything.”

Bucky looked like he was about to argue but then he dropped his gaze and nodded. “Okay.”

The group passed the next hour just making conversation about work and plans and life in general. Steve found himself liking the people around him the more they spoke, and he barely noticed what time it was until Bucky looked up at the time and squawked.

By now, Bucky and Steve had both slid into the middle of the couch and were pressed up against each other’s sides. Bucky jumped up and Steve immediately missed his warmth.

“It’s way later than I thought,” he said. “I got a cat yesterday and she’s gonna be pissed if I don’t get home and feed her.”

Natasha cackled. “A cat? Wow, Barnes.”

“I got lonely, okay?” he huffed. “I don’t have to explain myself.”

Steve bit his lip to keep himself from telling Bucky that he loved cats and thought it was adorable. Not to mention that his loneliness, while sad for Bucky, was comparatively great news for Steve. Maybe he had a chance after all, if only Bucky got desperate enough.

“I should probably get going too,” he said instead. “I have to get up early tomorrow.”

Everyone started to disperse at that point, and Bucky and Steve actually ended up being the last ones out of the apartment. They walked out into the street together, then stopped, looking at each other.

“I, uh, I’ll see you later, ‘kay?” Bucky said.

“You better,” said Steve, smirking.

“I’ll text you tomorrow or something.”

“Sounds good.” Steve almost gave into the urge to lean in and kiss Bucky’s cheek, then took a step back instead. “I’ll see you later.”

“See you,” said Bucky, giving him a soft smile, and they parted ways.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, a new chapter already! I wrote this in one day because I dropped two classes and one of my classes is just work time so I basically have three study halls, plus my teacher for my only other class wasn't here so I just wrote all day. The next one up will be the Christmas chapter and hopefully that'll be up on time. Come talk to me about Stucky and/or any of my fics or just like stalk me or something on tumblr at hearteyesmonroe.tumblr.com!

Bucky didn’t have a shared shift with Steve until a couple weeks later, even though they were both working a lot. Natasha had probably sensed the slight awkwardness after the kiss and taken pity on Bucky, but he found it more than a little disappointing. He texted Steve as much as possible, but they didn’t see each other in person thanks to their differing work schedules.

Finally, in the middle of November, they had a shared shift because Natasha had somewhere to be and neither could handle the influx of customers on their own.

Bucky was off his crutches by now, though he still walked funny, and he limped in that Monday to see Steve already behind the counter. He looked so small behind it, Bucky just wanted to sweep him up into his arms. Steve waved awkwardly, giving Bucky a small smile.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” said Bucky, giving Steve a broad grin. He didn’t want things to be weird. He desperately wanted Steve to forgive him. He kept saying Bucky hadn’t done anything, but that didn’t stop Bucky from being sure he had. Steve had been distant all the last couple weeks, and it made Bucky immensely uncomfortable.

Bucky took a spot next to Steve behind the counter, perching on the stool that still stood there. “How’s it going?”

“I only just opened, so it’s been pretty boring so far.”

“I meant you, silly.”

“Oh. Oh! I’m good.”

“Good.”

“You?”

“Good.”

They both fell silent. Bucky swallowed and tried not to stare at Steve’s lips. They were so pink and, Bucky knew from experience now, soft, and they had been so gentle yet electric beneath Bucky’s, and now Bucky was definitely staring and getting very distracted.

The bell on the door rang as someone came in and Bucky jumped.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “You okay, Buck?”

It was the first time Steve had used the nickname since Halloween, and Bucky’s face softened despite himself. “Yeah, fine. Just surprised me.” He turned to wave at the customer. “Hello!”

As the woman browsed the shelves, the phone rang. Steve ran over to answer it.

“Hello, Romanoff’s Rock Shop.”

He listened for a moment, looking puzzled. “No, I’m sorry, we don’t have that here.” Another pause. “No, we’re not, sorry.” He paused again. “Yeah, sure, no problem. Goodbye.” He hung up the phone. “That was weird.”

“What?”

“That person asked if we were a music store. Why would we be–”

“Ohhh, rock shop, I get it.”

Steve’s eyebrows flew up. “Oh!”

“Weird.”

Steve returned to his place behind the counter. Bucky eyed him out of his peripheral vision and sighed to himself.

After a very long pause in which Bucky replayed the entire kiss in his mind no less than three times, he decided to break that silence.

“Steve, I know I keep saying this, but I really am sorry if–”

“Bucky, Bucky! I swear, you didn’t do anything. I just wasn’t feeling well that day and we’ve both been super busy since then.”

“O–okay. I just….”

When Bucky didn’t finish his sentence, Steve said, “Yeah?”

“It’s just, you know. You’re kind of my best friend at this point and I don’t want things to be weird for any reason, whether it’s a dumb kiss or something I did or–”

“Wait, what did you say?”

“You’re my best friend?”

“Steve smiled down at the ground and bit his lip.

“What, is that weird or something? Is it too soon to say that? Sorry, I just–”

“No, it’s not weird at all. I’ve just….wow, this is gonna make me sound–”

“What?”

“I’ve never had a best friend before.”

“Oh.”

“Or many friends in general,” Steve mumbled toward his shoes.

Bucky’s heart shattered at the sight of Steve shyly chewing his lip. His eyes flicked up to meet Bucky’s, and they had this look in them, a look that was fearful that Bucky was going to hear that and immediately deem Steve too pathetic and push him away.

Bucky realized after a moment that he had no idea what to say. He only knew he wanted to reassure Steve, to tell him it was going to be okay, that he wasn’t going anywhere. He resisted the urge to pull Steve into a suffocating, overly affectionate hug, and instead patted him on the shoulder and said, “Well, never too late.”

“Guess not.”

“I think everyone liked you a lot.”

“Yeah?” Steve looked so hopeful.

“Yeah, Sam asked me when you’re coming back.”

Steve beamed at that. “He brought me a soda, remember? I like him, he’s nice.”

“He’s very nice. Hey, you busy this afternoon, since we’re closing early?” he asked before realizing the question was rather sudden.

“No, I’m not, actually.” Steve smirked. “Did you have something in mind?”

“Literally, this is going to sound so ridiculous but I have a loaf of bread that’s gone stale and I was going to feed it to crows in the park.”

“Crows.”

“They’re very intelligent. They like my mom better but….” He shrugged. “They’ll still take food from me. Greedy bastards.”

Steve chuckled. “Okay, I’ll go with you, but I gotta warn you, a crow flew at my head the other day and it seemed mad.”

“I’m sure they’ll warm up to you.”

“I sure hope so, I don’t want to be attacked.”

They spent the rest of the day mostly companionably quiet, making the occasional comment but otherwise just sitting behind the counter together, enjoying each other’s silent company. Every now and then Steve would lean in to adjust something in the display case, and he’d get close enough Bucky could feel his body heat. Bucky would chew his lip and shift in his seat, and Steve would be completely oblivious as he moved a piece of amethyst slightly to the left and then sat back down.

They closed up at five, gathering up their things from the back room and exiting through the back door.

“Do you mind if we walk to my apartment? It’s not actually that far from here and there’s a small park nearby.”

“Um, I’m fine to walk, but are you? Didn’t you only just get out of your, like, boot thing?”

“Yeah, but it’s okay. All healed up now. I walked here this morning.”

“Wow.”

“You ready?”

“Yeah.”

The walk to Bucky’s place was a short one, like he’d said, and his building had a working elevator (finally; they hadn’t had one for several months a while back and the climb up the stairs had been a nightmare), so the trip up to his apartment was likewise short. He dropped his workbag on the floor as soon as he unlocked the door and entered.

“You can leave your bag here and come back for it, if you want,” he said, gesturing. Steve dropped his bag next to Bucky’s while Bucky dug around in his cupboard for the bread. “Found it.”

He turned around to see Steve looking around, apparently lost in his surroundings.

“Your place is way nicer than mine,” he murmured.

“Are you kidding? I love your place, I mean, I’ve only been there once, but still.”

Steve blushed.

“Sorry,” Bucky muttered.

They left the apartment a couple minutes later, making the short walk over to the small park around the corner. There were several crows already hanging around on the benches and pecking at  the ground.

“Hey, guys!” Bucky called out to them. Steve gave him a weird look. “What?” said Bucky. “I know them.”

“Just how often do you feed them?”

“Uh, I mean, pretty often….”

“Uhuh.”

“And this bread may not be as stale as I made it sound.”

“Right.”

“I just want them to have nice things, okay?” Bucky hid his face behind his hands and the loaf of bread. “Don’t think I’m weird.”

“That was unavoidable, Buck.”

“Oh.”

“When we first met, you told me all about your rock collection unprompted. Obviously I’m gonna think you’re weird.”

“Oh,” he said again.

Steve stepped in closer, resting a hand on Bucky’s arm and pulling his hands away from his face. “Bucky? It’s why I like you, though. I like your kind of weird.”

“Oh,” Bucky said one last time, dropping his hands completely. Steve’s hand stayed on Bucky’s arm and their eyes met. It was kind of intense. Bucky’s breath caught in his throat as moments turned into long seconds. Steve’s eyes dropped and–was he staring at Bucky’s lips? Bucky couldn’t tell but he desperately wanted it to be true. For a brief moment, Steve seemed to be leaning in, and Bucky’s heart flip flopped, but then Steve was pulling away and clearing his throat.

“Um. So are we gonna feed these birds, or what?”

“Yeah! Yeah, here you go.” Bucky opened the bag of bread and pulled out a handful of slices, handing them to Steve. They both started tearing up the bread, tossing it toward the birds. The crows curiously hopped over and started pecking the bread and swallowing it down.

One of the crows approached Steve and he flinched.

“Oh wow, you really must have been assaulted by one of them,” said Bucky.

Steve nodded, cowering and throwing an appeasing piece of bread in the bird’s general direction. The bird gobbled it up and hopped closer.

“I think he likes you,” Bucky said.

“How can you be sure?” Steve squeaked.

“C’mon, Steve, look how little he is. I’m sure you could take him.”

Steve relaxed slightly. “You know what, you’re right. I’m gonna fight that bird.”

“Steve, no!”

“I’m kidding,” Steve laughed. He threw another piece of bread. The crow accepted and then hopped away. Steve let out a sigh of relief.

Bucky snickered. “Chill, Steve.”

“I’m okay now, I swear!”

They tore up and tossed the last few pieces of bread and then turned to walk back to Bucky’s apartment. On the ride up the elevator, Steve suddenly nestled up to Bucky’s side. “Are you cold? I’m cold.”

“No, do you want tea when we get up to my apartment?”

“Okay, thanks.”

Steve followed Bucky at a close distance as they entered Bucky’s apartment. Bucky turned on the kettle and waited for it to heat, opening the cupboard and digging through his tea collection. “What kind of tea do you like?”

“What do you have?”

“If you want it, I probably have it.”

“Earl Grey?”

“Sure thing,” Bucky said, pulling out the yellow box and whipping out a tea bag.

The water reached a boil, and Bucky poured it into a cup over the tea bag and handed it to Steve.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“This really is a nice place. It’s cozy.”

“Cozier now that I have a cat. Smokey!” he called in a high pitched voice.

Steve’s eyes widened. “Oh yeah, I remember you saying you got one.”

“There you are, girl!” Bucky said in the same squeaky voice, bending down to pet the gray ball of fluff that had appeared out from under the table.

Steve covered his mouth, stifling a laugh. “She’s cute.”

“She’s super friendly. Say hi, Smokey!”

Smokey opened her mouth as if to meow but all that came out was a soft squeak.

“Ohhh,” Steve gasped, “she’s adorable!” He crouched down and held out a hand. Smokey sidled up to him, rubbing up against his knees as he ran his hands through her long fur.

“She’s kind of the best. Keeps me company.”

“I bet. What a good girl,” Steve murmured, stroking the sides of her face with both hands. She started purring loudly.

Steve and Bucky sat there on the floor, Steve grabbing his tea from the table and holding it in one hand as he petted Smokey with the other. They both talked nonsense words at her, giggling when she tried to climb on them. Steve finished his tea and stared into his cup wistfully. “I’d better get home,” he said quietly.

“Okay,” said Bucky, although he wanted to argue, to tell Steve to stay for as long as he wanted. Instead, he stood and extended a hand to Steve, helping him up.

As Steve pulled on his coat, he turned around. “Hey Buck?”

“Yeah?”

Steve’s voice was almost inaudible. “I’m really glad I met you.”

Bucky smiled softly. “I wish you didn’t have to get a concussion for it to happen.”

“Well, and I wish you didn’t have to break your foot. But I think it was worth it, at least. And….I hope you do too.”

It was in that moment that Bucky realized he was in too deep. He was truly, hopelessly in love with Steve Rogers.

“Of course I do, Steve.”

Steve nodded and disappeared through the door. Bucky stared after him, Smokey rubbing up against his legs. “What do I do?” he asked her. She didn’t answer.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god so much for posting on Christmas, I'm sorrrrryyyyyy I'm such garbage honestly, I haven't updated for like, over two months and it's really short but it's something, right? Right? Anyway, I'll be wrapping it up in the next couple chapters but I might make it a series later, who knows.

Steve was sick.

He tried to deny it at first, but goddamn was he ever sick

“Stevie, you okay, pal?”

“Huh?” Steve swung his head up to look at Bucky. He moved too quickly and his vision swam for a moment before settling back down.

“I said, are you okay? You’re awful pale.”

“I’m always pale,” he heard himself grumble, but his focus was on staying upright, not whatever came out of his mouth.

He looked up again in time to see Bucky smirk.

“Yeah, well, you look especially pale today.”

Steve opened his mouth to reply and all that came out was a wheeze.

“Whoa, buddy, that doesn’t sound good. Why don’t you sit down?”

Bucky led Steve over to the stool behind the counter and all but forced him down as Steve halfheartedly protested. Every attempt to speak just set off another round of coughing, though, and Steve saw Bucky’s eyes widen as panic dawned on him.

“Steve, where’s your inhaler?” The words came out in a rush as Bucky gripped Steve’s shoulders. At any other moment, he probably would have savored the contact, but right now he was focused on breathing enough to remain conscious. He made a vague gesture toward his bag in the back room and luckily Bucky seemed to understand because he jumped up and ran in the direction Steve had pointed. Steve heard him rustling around and a moment later he returned holding Steve’s inhaler.

He passed it to Steve and Steve pressed down and inhaled. It set off another bout of coughing but then as the seconds passed he could feel his lungs start to settle. A minute later he took another puff and then set it on the counter.

“Thanks, Buck.”

“No problem. I really don’t think you’re as okay as you say you are, by the way.”

“I’m really fine.”

Bucky pressed the back of his hand to Steve’s forehead and Steve squawked. “Yup, fever. I’m sending you home.”

“Do you have that authority?”

“I do now, punk. C’mon, let’s get you home.”

Bucky bundled Steve up in the back room and shouted to Natasha that he’d be right back, then dragged Steve out the door and stood with him while they waited for a cab.

As Steve climbed into the cab, Bucky leaned in, hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Hey, I’ll drop by later with some soup or something.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, but I want to.” Bucky grinned and ruffled his hair. “See ya.”

He shut the door and waved Steve off.

Steve was still flushed when he arrived at his apartment. The moment he opened the door, he stumbled to the couch and collapsed, blindly reaching for a blanket. He wrapped it around himself, shuddering with the chill that had been creeping up on him all day.

He woke hours later to a knock on the door. He sat up, aching joints creaking, and shuffled to the door. Whoever it was knocked again.

“Yeah, I’m comin’.”

He swung the door open and there stood Bucky, a concerned smile on his face.

“I brought soup,” he said, holding up the carton in his hands.

Steve stepped aside to let him in. “Thanks, Buck.”

“No problem, pal. How have you been?”

“Asleep.”

The look of horror on Bucky’s face was comical. “Oh shit, Steve, did I wake you up?”

Steve laughed and waved a hand. “It’s fine, I’d been asleep too long anyway.”

Bucky shook his head. “No such thing when you’re sick. Are you hungry? Go sit back down, where are your bowls? I’ll bring you your soup.”

“That cupboard there,” Steve said, gesturing, and then he shuffled back to the couch and sat, wrapping himself up again.

A minute later Bucky came in with a bowl of soup and placed it in front of Steve on the coffee table. “There, eat that and then go back to sleep.” He sat down next to Steve. “You don’t mind if I stay a little while, do you?”

Steve blinked. “No, that’s fine.”

Bucky looked down at his hands. “I’ve just been worried about you, punk. You really gave me a scare this morning.” He looked back up, smiling weakly.

Steve smiled back. “I’ll be fine. This happens all the time and I haven’t died yet.”

He realized when Bucky’s eyes widened that his joke was probably a little morbid, given the circumstances.

“Um,” Steve said. “You wanna put something on?” He pointed at the television.

Bucky nodded and stood to dig through Steve’s movie collection.

“Princess Bride?” he said, turning and holding it up with a grin.

“Princess Bride,” Steve agreed, returning the expression.

Bucky popped it in and settled back in next to Steve. As they watched, Steve finished his soup and then relaxed back into the seat. His eyelids began to droop about two-thirds of the way through the movie, and he distantly felt Bucky wrap an arm around his shoulders and murmur, “It’s okay, Steve, you can sleep now.”

When he woke up it was dark, and Bucky was beside him with his arm still around his shoulders. His head was leaned into the side of the couch and he was breathing softly, eyelids shut.

Steve’s joints were screaming and he desperately needed to stretch, so he carefully slid out from under Bucky’s arm and tiptoed to the kitchen. He got a glass of water and leaned against the counter as he sipped it.

As he set the cup aside, he heard the floorboards creak, and a moment later heard Bucky groaning, “Steve?”

“In here.”

Bucky came into the kitchen, rubbing at his eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“Neither did I.” He smirked. “Really though, it’s fine.”

“You wanna lie back down? Can I get you anything? Pain relievers? Cough drops?”

“Okay, Mom,” Steve said, walking back toward the couch. “They’re in the bathroom cupboard.”

“Hey, wait, don’t you think you’d be more comfortable in your room?”

“Oh, yeah, I guess so.” Steve redirected himself and climbed into bed, sighing as his mattress enveloped him. A couple minutes later Bucky came in, juggling a bag of cough drops, a bottle of pain relievers, and a glass of water. He set them all on Steve’s bedside table and then took a step back, looking satisfied with himself.

“There you go. Get plenty of rest, Stevie, and be sure you drink all of that water. You need to stay hydrated.”

“Bucky, I told you, I’ve been sick before.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just making sure. I wouldn’t care, you know, except that it was busy at the shop without you and we need you back.” He winked to show he wasn’t serious, and Steve chuckled.

“Thanks, Buck, it’s nice to know you care.”

Bucky’s face turned slightly more serious. “I do. I’m gonna get going, but feel better soon.”

“Thanks. See you later.”

Bucky opened his mouth and hesitated as if he was going to say something else, but then frowned and shook his head, then looked back up and smiled softly. “See you.”

He walked out of Steve’s room and three minutes later, Steve was asleep again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again that this took so long, I'm gonna try really really hard to get the rest of it up soon-ish although I'm finishing up my senior year of high school and I'm also writing for the Stucky Big Bang and I have another WIP as well as another thing I'm trying to finish and then my original writing so it's wild is basically what I'm saying. But I'm gonna try so hard, and I know what I'm doing for the last few chapters, it's just a matter of sitting down and writing the last few thousand words. Come cry about these two idiots with me on tumblr, I'm hearteyesmonroe on there and I am loving the new instant messaging so shoot me one maybe if you wanna. I love you all and thank you for the kudos and comments I've gotten, I live for that stuff.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I actually got this one up in a reasonable time frame for once. Go me! One to go! Hopefully soon! Then I gotta finish Our Quiet Minds and then nothing will be up for a while probably because I have seriously learned my lesson about posting WIPs. And that lesson is that I am terrible at updating and should not do it. The good news is I'm already working on other stuff that hasn't been posted so hopefully those will also be done in a reasonable time frame. Wish me luck!

It was Bucky’s day off and he’d been laying on his couch all day, worrying between episodes of bad television about Steve and wondering if it would be too weird or obvious if he went over again. Had Steve run out of soup, maybe? It was an important question. He reached for his phone and typed out a text.

BUCKY: How’s it going?

STEVE: Ugh not good, I wish I could just go home.

BUCKY: Home? Where are you now?

STEVE: Okay first of all it’s not a big deal so don’t freak out.

Bucky was definitely freaking out.

BUCKY: ??????????

STEVE: I’m at the ER but I’m OKAY, Bucky, everything is fine.

Bucky’s breath caught in his throat.

BUCKY: What, why???

STEVE: I probably have pneumonia but it’ll be a pretty long wait before I can see a doctor and find out for sure, there are a lot of people here.

Bucky remembered their first meeting and had the passing thought that maybe now Steve would meet another, much cuter person with a much better job offer and be whisked out of his life forever. That would be just Bucky’s luck, honestly.

He couldn’t let that happen.

And more importantly, he couldn’t let Steve face this alone.

BUCKY: I’m coming over there.

STEVE: Seriously, Bucky? It’s not that big a deal. Isn’t it your day off? You should be having fun, not sitting around with a bunch of sick people.

Bucky typed out a message, deleted it, typed it back out word for word, and hovered his finger over the send button.

He took a deep breath and hit send.

BUCKY: Yeah but I wanna be with you.

Too heartfelt. He immediately wished there was an unsend button. But it would be too late for that anyway. Steve had already read the message. Bucky chewed his lip while Steve typed a response.

STEVE: I can’t stop you can I?

BUCKY: Not really, no.

STEVE: Fine, it is kind of lonely over here.

Bucky drove to the ER as fast as he could without getting pulled over and ran through the doors, immediately searching the crowd (and Steve was right, there were a lot of people) for a blond head on a small frame. It was admittedly pretty difficult, but then he heard a loud wheeze and went straight for it. There Steve was, wrapped in a heavy coat and clutching his phone, a game about frogs on the screen. Bucky sat down next to him and Steve’s head whipped up. Then he groaned, pressing a hand to his forehead.

“You okay?” Bucky said, reaching his own hand out.

“Fine, just moved too fast. I’ve had this dizzy headache all day.”

Bucky made a sympathetic sound as he withdrew his hand.

Unexpectedly, a warm weight hit Bucky’s side. He looked down, mouth open in shock, to see Steve nestled against his arm.

“M’so cold, Bucky.”

“Feel plenty warm to me,” Bucky said, but he wrapped his arm across Steve’s shoulders. He hoped Steve couldn’t feel how fast his heart was beating.

“You’re warm,” Steve mumbled.

Bucky blushed and leaned over to rest his chin on top of Steve’s head. “Please don’t die, Steve.” He meant it to come out like a joke, but his voice turned weirdly croaky and it came out much too sincere for comfort.

Steve squeezed Bucky’s arm. “M’not dying, you idiot. I get pneumonia like, every year. It was only a matter of time.”

“Oh, have you run out of soup yet? I know I brought kind of a lot but I don’t know how hungry you get when you’re sick so—”

Steve started to shake with laughter, then with loud coughs. Bucky pulled away to get a good look at Steve’s reddening face. Steve held up a hand to signal he was fine. Bucky didn’t know what else to do other than rub circles on Steve’s back, so that was what he did, occasionally murmuring things like “It’s okay,” or “Just try to breathe.”

After a minute, Steve’s breathing settled and he leaned back up against Bucky. Bucky resumed his previous position and let out a shaky laugh.

“Jesus, Stevie, you okay?”

“Yeah, Buck, I’m sorry. You’re just such a mother hen.”

Bucky pressed his cheek against the top of Steve’s head and squeezed his arm around Steve’s shoulder. “Yeah, well. If you died, it would probably ruin my day.”

“Oh, would it?”

Bucky didn’t know what to say to that so he just squeezed harder.

“Ow.”

“Sorry.”

“Not your fault, I’m just achey.”

Bucky loosened his grip as much as he could emotionally manage to. It wasn’t much.

“Are you shivering?”

“It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Wish I’d thought to bring you a blanket.”

“Bucky, I’m wearing a giant coat, I’ll survive.”

“Still.”

Steve huffed out a small laugh. “Mother hen, Bucky, I swear to god.”

They lapsed into silence and after a while, Bucky felt Steve’s breathing slow. Within twenty minutes, he was certain Steve was asleep. Steve was adorable when he slept. Bucky remembered back to a couple days prior, when they’d both fallen asleep while watching movies. Steve had fallen asleep first and he’d looked so peaceful, so borderline angelic, that it was almost impossible for Bucky to hold back the urge to press a kiss to the top of his head. He hadn’t, not then, but now…

Now he found himself turning his head and brushing his lips against Steve’s hair, breathing in his scent. It could only be described as “Steve” and it made Bucky’s heart flip in his chest. He looked over to see an older woman glaring over at them and he glared back, pulling Steve closer. Steve sighed and shifted slightly against Bucky. Bucky leaned back down and pressed another kiss to Steve’s head, taking another breath.  _ Steve. _

Steve shifted again and then moved his head. Bucky leaned back to look at him, heart pounding.

Steve’s brow was furrowed, his eyes questioning. “Bucky…?”

“Steve Rogers?”

Steve sat up straighter, scrubbing at his eyes. “That’s my cue.”

“Do you want me to come in with you?”

“That’d be great, I hate this.”

Bucky grabbed Steve’s hand and followed him.

Bucky sat by as the doctor assessed Steve. After a chest X-ray the doctor determined that he did, in fact, have pneumonia, and prescribed antibiotics and lots of rest.

“Will your boyfriend be able to check on you regularly?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m—” Bucky started.

“He has work,” Steve said at the same time, “but he’s a total mother hen so he’ll probably try anyway.” He shot Bucky a look and Bucky just nodded.

As soon as the doctor left the room for a moment, Steve turned to Bucky sheepishly. “Sorry, Buck, I just figured it would be less awkward to not explain.”

Bucky smiled softly. “It’s okay, Steve. I don’t mind.”

And wasn’t that the understatement of the year. He knew it wasn’t real, but for a brief, glorious moment, it let him pretend. And that was all he could ask for, really. It was enough.

“Actually, Buck, um.”

Bucky’s eyes flew up to Steve’s face.

“I was meaning to ask you, before I got called—”

The doctor chose that moment to walk back in.

Bucky was going to scream.

He sat there, twitching, while the doctor finished up explaining everything to Steve, who Bucky could tell was trying his best to be patient considering he’d already been through this countless times. Then they were leaving, and they found themselves standing around in the parking lot. It was dark now, and the night air was cold. Bucky couldn’t even imagine how uncomfortable Steve was. He shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Did you drive here?” he asked.

“No,” Steve said, “I took a taxi.”

“Need a ride home?”

“That would be great, thanks.”

“You never answered if you were out of soup yet. I could bring some tomorrow if you—”

Steve chuckled. “I still have some, it’s okay.”

Bucky smiled. “Are you hungry? I can heat some up for you once you’re home.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Fuck off,” Bucky laughed. “C’mon, punk, let’s go.”

They drove to Steve’s apartment in relative silence. Once there, Bucky helped a weakening Steve up the stairs and onto the couch. Steve shed his coat in favor of a pile of blankets that Bucky helped wrap around him. Then, as promised, Bucky heated up the soup and placed it in front of Steve.

Bucky wondered briefly what Steve had wanted to say to him back at the ER, but Steve seemed to have forgotten in his exhaustion and Bucky was scared to bring it up again. So he squeezed Steve’s shoulder, whispered a goodnight, and drove himself home, a thousand questions running through his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder that I literally love it so much when people come say hi on tumblr where I am hearteyesmonroe so please do if you want to yell at me about how much Steve and Bucky love each other! And thank you to everyone who has left kudos and comments, they mean the world to me!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHAAAAAT IT ONLY TOOK ME A DAY TO UPDATE THIS TIME, this totally makes up for that time it took me two months, right? Righhhhht? (No. Bad writer. I swear I will never be that bad again.)

Steve woke in the middle of the night to his chest aching. His room was still pitch black and it felt sweltering and freezing all at once. His throat had gone completely dry and he hurt all over. He wheezed as he sat up, reaching blindly for his glass of water. His hand bumped it and he whimpered as he heard the sound of shattering glass.

Well, shit.

He didn’t know what to do. There was a complete mess somewhere on the floor in the darkness and to clean it up he’d have to somehow manage to step over the shards of what was left of his glass. He could wait until sunrise, he supposed, but his throat was raw and scratchy and he needed water, the sooner the better.

He felt his eyes start to sting, which was incredibly stupid. It was literally just a little water and glass. Easy to clean up later. The water would dry and then he could sweep it up and get more water and it would be fine. But nope, there were tears happening now. Actual, stupid tears. He blamed the fever.

Before he had even thought it through, he was reaching for his phone and dialling Bucky.

It rang twice before he picked up.

“Steve?” His voice was thick with sleep and Steve immediately felt a pang of guilt.

“Bucky…” His voice trembled as he attempted to stop crying long enough to speak.

“Steve!” Bucky’s voice was more urgent now. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“It’s stupid, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called and woken you up.”

“Steve, no, I don’t mind. Are you crying? What’s wrong?”

“I knocked over my water and now there’s glass all over the floor and I can’t get up to get a new one because it’ll cut me and my throat hurts and I’m cold and hot and I need help.” It came out in a rush of words and he had to take a few deep breaths when he was finished.

There was barely a moment’s pause before Bucky said, “I’ll be right there.”

“Okay. And keep your shoes on when you come in, I don’t want it to hurt you.”

“Okay, Stevie.” There was a smile in Bucky’s voice and Steve couldn’t help but let out a shaky, slightly tearful laugh.

He hung up and huddled under the blankets while he waited for Bucky.

He heard footsteps fifteen minutes later and sat up. He realized belatedly that he was in his old, worn out pajamas, but there wasn’t anything he could have done to fix that anyway, so he was just going to have to deal with it.

“Steve?”

“Bucky?”

The door creaked open and the light switched on and there was Bucky and…okay, he was still in his pajamas too.

Steve giggled. “You came over like that?”

Bucky huffed in mock indignation. “I was in a hurry. I’m wearing real shoes at least, see? Glass proof.”

“Yeah, okay, pal.”

“What do we need? Broom? Towel?”

“Both, it’s a mess.” Steve directed Bucky toward where they were stored and then sat waiting for him to return.

Bucky came back a couple minutes later holding not only the broom and towel but also a glass of water.

Steve started to tear up again. “You remembered.”

“Can’t let you die of dehydration.”

Steve took a few gulps and then set it down. “Let me help you with that.” He went to stand but Bucky shoved him forcefully back onto the bed.

Not the context Steve would have liked for that particular action, but he’d take it.

“Nuh uh, Steve, you need to rest. Let me take care of it.”

“Bucky—”

“Steve, no. Lie down and drink your water.”

Steve huffed. “I’m such a pain, why are you being so nice to me?”

Bucky’s face fell and he dropped the towel while simultaneously gripping the broom even harder. “Really, Steve?”

Steve stared at the far wall, pursing his lips.

“Steve, look at me.”

Steve’s eyes watered.

“Steve?”

“What?”

“Please.” Bucky’s voice was impossibly soft and Steve was going to start sobbing if it continued much longer. He couldn’t help but sneak a glance at Bucky’s face.

Bucky was wearing possibly the most open expression Steve had ever seen. His eyes were wide and a little bit sad and his mouth was open like he was about to speak but he looked confused and slightly conflicted.

“What?” said Steve, and now it was Bucky who was looking away.

“C’mon, Steve, you must know by now.”

“Know what?” A deep crease formed between Steve’s eyebrows as he frowned at Bucky. What was he talking about?

“I guess I should really have told you sooner, but I was scared, still am, and I…” He made a small noise, then, and Steve’s frown deepened.

“Buck?”

Bucky carefully stepped over the glass, resting the broom by the side of the bed, and sat next to Steve. “Before I say anything, I just want you to know that I wouldn’t ever hold you to anything and our friendship is the most important thing in the world to me and I don’t want to lose that, so—”

“Why would you lose it?”

“Because I love you.”

Steve blinked.

The silence stretched on.

And on.

Bucky sank his teeth into his lip. He picked up the broom again and moved to stand. “I can just—”

“James Buchanan Barnes, you sit your ass back down.”

Bucky’s eyes widened and he sank back into his seat. “Oh, okay, I—”

Steve flung his arms around Bucky, nuzzling his face into the crook of Bucky’s neck. Bucky let out a surprised sound.

“Stevie?”

“I love you too, you jerk.”

“Oh,” he said. And then, “ _ Oh. _ ”

“Yeah,  _ oh. _ Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because who’d want—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Stevie, I do and I always will.”

Steve let out a wet but very happy sob. “Oh my god, I’m sorry, I’m crying all over your shirt.”

“I don’t care, Steve, I don’t ever want to move again.”

“Not even to—”

“Yeah, okay, I didn’t really think through that statement.”

“We’re a mess.”

“I love you so much.”

Steve just squeezed harder.

They stayed like that until they became drowsy, glass forgotten until morning.

They were awakened by a call from Bucky’s phone.

“Natasha?” he grumbled as he picked up.

Steve looked on in amusement as Bucky’s face went from groggy to alarmed.

“What time did you say it is? Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I’m with Steve. Yeah, he’s still sick. I’ll be there, I just gotta sweep up some glass and then stop by my apartment to—Natasha, no, that is not how the glass got knocked over. You’re the worst. I hate you. I’ll see you in half an hour.” He hung up and looked over to glare at Steve. “Stop laughing, you little shit.”

“I’m sorry, Bucky, this is all my fault but  _ your face. _ ”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Seriously though, I can take care of this mess. You go.”

“No way, Stevie, this is a team effort.”

“Fine, just bring me my shoes.”

Luckily, the water had dried up overnight so they made quick work of sweeping the glass up. Steve then shoved Bucky out the door, but Bucky grabbed onto the doorframe.

“Wait.”

“What, Bucky? You’re gonna be late. You’re already late. You’re gonna be late for being late.”

“What does that even…”

“I don’t know. What do you want?”

“Just this,” he said, and he pecked Steve on the lips.

Steve felt himself turn bright red. “Oh. Okay then.”

Bucky grinned. “I love you.”

Steve blushed harder. “I love you too.”

“Bet I love you more.”

“That’s impossible, you idiot, now go before Natasha yells at me too for keeping you.”

Bucky nodded and disappeared off to his car. Steve shut the door and then just stood there, grinning like an idiot.

He had pneumonia, a fever of 102 degrees Fahrenheit, a pounding headache, and an aching throat, and he had never been happier in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally cannot bELIEVE this is over, I've been working on this since like August. I'd like to thank everyone who stuck with me since the first chapter, your dedication means a lot. And to the people who joined later on, or who are just now finding the fic because it's no longer a work in progress (hurray!), thank you too for taking the time to read this! This fic really is my baby (my baby that I kind of hate lol) so all the kudos and comments you guys have left mean the world to me. Find me on tumblr, my url is hearteyesmonroe and I would love it if you guys would come yell at me about these two idiots in love. See you later!


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